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Appendix |
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That with his utmost foppish Art,
He ne'er could wound one Female heart,
And is so noted for a Fool,
He's ev'ry Lady's redicule;
His Cheeks so fleshy, plump and round,
No Trumpeter that strains to sound,
Can show ye such a foot-ball Face,
That Swells, or Pouts, with such a Grace;
Some think the pretty plump-Cheek'd Baby
A wet Nurse all his life has lay by,
And do with some assurance say,
He sucks a Bubby to this day,
Which puts his Face in such a trim,
Just like a painted Cherubim :
We'll leave the Pigs-nies at the Nipple,
To tug and play, suck Bub and tipple,
In few Years more he'll sure disdain
His Childish Tricks, and prove a Man.
Stand by, ye foppish Rakes, make room, And let Beau Cherry timely come, To show his Tulip Cheeks o'er-spread With Lilly-white, and Rosy-red; Wheter laid on by Art or Nature, To add a lustre to his Feature, Is often on the Walks disputed; But for my part I'm confuted, That the Gay vain blaspheming Fool, Is much oblig'd to Spanish-Wooll, White-washes, Powder and Pomatim, Which makes the Fair despise and hate 'im, He's wondrous Witty, but his Jests Are on the Scriptures, or the Priests; Religion he, in gross, denies, Thinks to be wicked 's to be wise, 306 |
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